The Demigod Games
by festus-nuggets
Summary: In penance for the destruction demigods have caused, the Mortals have forced them to live in districts, and compete in The Demigod Games, a fight to the death between 24 tribute demigods. Told in different character POVs, our favorite heroes must survive in games they don't want to play.
1. Percy 1

"Perseus Jackson, Son of Poseidon!"

My name rings across the audience. Everyone turns to look at me, seeing if I'm scarred, crying, or both.

I grit my teeth and clench my fists, and I slowly, walk to the stage. My head is held high. I don't want to show weakness, not now.

I steal a glance at the screen that shows the audience all the action, up close and personal. All the cameras are trained on me, and my face is promptly displayed in a tight close up. My features are set hard in stone, but in my sea green eyes, fear is detectable.

As I take my place, the crowd is silent. I'm not sure what they're thinking. A son of Poseidon, being offered as a tribute? A small voice in the back of my mind is telling me this was a set up. What would the mortals of the capitol love more than seeing the only son of the sea god perish on live television?

District four's escort, Margery Wryer, clasps her hands together.

"Well! Let's give a round of applause for this year's tributes! Go on, shake hands." She motions for me to shake the girls tributes hand. Her name is Serena Chavers, but I don't know her. I turn and face her and shake her hand. Her grip is tight, but I'm not sure if that's because it was a nervous spasm, or she can't wait to kill me. Serena's godly parent is Nike, so she won't be back down from opportunities to win.

Mortal guards guide us to the Justice Building, where we will be able to say our goodbyes to our families and close friends.

I'm led into a small room with plush furniture. The walls are plain white with ocean accents. If this wasn't my last goodbye to my mother I might have actually enjoyed this place. I sit on the couch and stare into space. I'm lost in thought, running my hands over the soft couch cushion when the door opens.

My mother rushes in and wraps her arms around me.

"Percy," she says into my hair. I can hear the pain in her voice. She pulls away and runs her fingers over my cheeks. Tears are heavily welled in her eyes. Seeing her in pain like this makes me emotional. I wipe away a tear of my own.

"Hi, mom," I say with a small smile.

My step-dad walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Percy, you can win this. You know how powerful you are."

"I-," I pause. "I know. But how can I…. How could I kill another demi-god? I'm not sure I could bring myself to do that."

Paul starts to tell me something, but my mother cuts him off.

"Worry about that later, Percy. Focus on what you have to do now." She pulls me into another hug. She smelled like an ocean breeze, since she had just been out with Paul this morning on our family boat catching seafood. A guard opens the door and begins escorting my parents out of the room.

"We love you Percy! Don't forget that!" My mom yells as the wooden door shuts.

"I love you too!" I scream. I don't know if she heard me. I hope she did.

I sit on the couch and bury my face in my hands. My eyes are stinging with the tears I refuse to let fall. The door opens again, and my best friend walks in. Grover sits next to me, and pulls something out of his pocket and holds it out for me to see. I look up to find that he's holding up a necklace with clay beads strung onto it. There are five beads each depicting a different, small, detailed, picture.

"They allow you to wear a token from your district," he says. "Will you wear this?"

I nod and take the necklace. I put it around my neck and clasp Grover on the back.

"Thanks bro," I say.

Grover sniffles then bleats sadly. Grover's a satyr, by the way.

"Per-r-r-rcy!" he wails. He sniffs a few more times then regains his composure. "I'm sorry. It's just that losing a best friend is hard."

"Don't worry. I'll come back home to you guys," I try to cheer him up a bit, even though I should be the one that needs uplifting.

Grover gives me a small smile then starts giving me nature advice, since I'm being thrown into an outdoor area.

The guards come in and lead Grover out who's still yelling advice at me even when he's out of the room.

"Don't take a squirrel's nuts! They will come after you!" he shouts as the door closes.

Even with the situation I'm in, I can't help but give a small laugh.

* * *

No one else comes to visit me. I didn't expect anyone else, honestly. I didn't really have any friends. Everyone bullied me, or was scarred of me.

Serena and I are escorted to the capitol train by guards. Cameras follow my face, swallowing up every image they can get of me. People scream at me telling me to look at their cameras. I ignore them and instead watch my shoes shuffle along the gravel road to the train.

We finally reach the platform and are forced to turn around to the bustling crowd, so the cameras can get their shots, and our district can wave goodbye.

My eyes scan the crowd and rest on my mother and Paul both waving frantically. There are tears streaming down my mom's face, and Paul has one of his arms wrapped around her.

I choked back a sob and waved at them. The guards signaled us to climb onto the train, which pulled away from the station as soon the door slid close in front of me.

Margery Wryer appears by our side.

"Well, dinner is in an hour, so feel free to explore the train. There are servants waiting on you, so if you need anything, just flag one of them down," she says. She turns and walks away, with her heels clicking.

I decide to just go to my compartment to lay down and think about how I was supposed to survive the next few weeks of my life.

* * *

_**AN: This is my first crossover fanfiction, so don't be too harsh if it's bad. Its a bit confusin but eveything will be explained. I will be using different character POVs, also. All of the seven chosen demi-dogs are part of this, plus some of your other favorite PJO characters. thanks (:**_

_**ps I know this is a really short chapter, but I write better in short. other chapters may be longer, but I'm not sure yet  
**_


	2. Percy 2

The food on the train is amazing. They serve us this clear soup that tastes what I can only describe as the ocean. I down the soup in minutes, Margery Wryer eyeing my mannerism distastefully. She is used to mortal children, with perfect etiquette and composure. This is her first year working for the Demigod Games, so this is probably her first time meeting demigods at all.

My next course arrives, and I finish it within minutes too. I'm not used to being fed this well. Back in the districts, most demigods must scavenge food for themselves. Their mortal parents are the only ones who are fed by the capitol. The food is just enough for the mortal, but the parents usually spread it out to give their children some.

You see, all mortals grow up in the capitol. Some meet other people and have regular children. But for most of the mortal population, this does not happen. The Greek gods of ancient times are still very much around. They come down to earth, and to our country, Panem, and have affairs. Back before Panem was a country this still happened. But there was this thing called the Mist, which prevented Mortals from seeing what was really going on in their world. Everything was relatively peaceful before World War Three. Roman demigods and Greek demigods fought viciously. The gods were being pulled apart by their alternate sides. With the gods distracted chaos struck. Every imaginable monster from Tartarus was let loose on America. The magic force known as the Mist dissipated, and the Mortals were terrified. They sent their strongest military weapons onto the beast but soon figured they would be destroyed.

The children of the gods realized what was happening. They quit fighting each other, and instead began to work together to defeat all the monsters. The Demigod/Monster war raged for years on end until most of the monsters were in Tartarus. With their children working together, the gods no longer had to pick sides. The gods used their forces to help seal the monsters in. Of course they could never be sealed in forever. The Romans and Greeks signed that they would stay forever in peace. While they felt calm the Mortals did not. The Mortals thought the reason America was in rubble was the Demigods existence.

So the Mortals built a "better" new country that consisted of the Capitol surrounded by thirteen outlying districts. Each district was assigned a different job. Four was in charge of seafood and other ocean duties. Twelve was assigned coal mining. Ten was cattle. And so on. The Demigods would've fought back if they had enough energy to do so. They had put all of their power to save what was left of America.

The districts were not segregated by godly parent. The Demigods from the wars were forced to live in several different areas. But sometimes, when a Mortal has an affair with a god, the child is placed fully ion their responsibility. The Mortal parent had a choice: Move out to a district to raise a demigod, or to abandon the child, and to let it live with foster parents or and orphanage. Foster parents were usually Demigods. But if on the rare occasion, a Mortal agreed to raise their child, they were forced to take a determining test to decide which district he or she would live in with their children. Sometimes, a god would help out with the results, but that hardly ever happened.

In addition to the Capitol have full control of all the districts; they decided to punish the Demigods even further. The Mortals decided to hold an annual pageant of "strength" and "honor" called The Demigod Games. Twenty-Four Demigod children, one male and one female from each district, between the ages twelve and eighteen were offered up as tribute. The Demigods were then placed in an outdoor arena, and were forced to fight to the death on live television. Viewing is mandatory. They say they hold these games to keep the districts from rebelling. Basically, by forcing us to do so, the Mortals are saying, "Watch how powerless you are as we take your children and force them to fight one another." The Mortals find the Games highly amusing, as most Demigods have special powers. To make it even worse, the Mortals throw in a few monsters to make the Demigods fight even harder. The last person alive is claimed victor, and is given an easily life back home. Their district is showered with gifts for a whole year.

The first few Games were disastrous. The last few kids would be sons and daughters of the same three gods: Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, or their Roman forms. The kids would ally then turn on each other. Each thought they were more powerful and wanted to prove it. It always ended that the kids would simultaneously kill each other. After those few years the trio, which became known as the Big Three, were forced to stop bearing children. The Mortals threaten to stop believing, to stop teaching their kids the way of the gods. The Mortals knew that they had the gods by the necks in this way. So for a long time, there were no more children of The Big Three. Until recently. The Mortals did not truly trust the gods to keep their promise to bear no more children. Mortal guards went around all of the Districts, testing each Demigod that had not been claimed. That included me. I still have the small deep scar that they cut into me for testing when I was four. Six Big Three children were found. A seven year old Daughter of Zeus, a four year old Son of Jupiter, a one year old Son of Hades, a two year old Daughter of Hades, a one year old Daughter of Pluto, and me. A four-year-old Son of Poseidon.

As of right now, I don't know if any other children of The Big Three besides me are in The Games. The Daughter of Zeus, Thalia, I think that's her name, is too old for the Games. Lucky her.

After the war, some Demigods sided with the Mortals. They gave up on their true identity as heroes, and sought an easy life of pleasure. Still most Demigods refuse to be stripped of their godly heritage.

At least, that's what they told us in school

* * *

_**A/N: Rate and review, so I can know what I'm doing wrong(: **_

_**I really hope this chapter cleared things up. I hope to update soon!  
**_


	3. Annabeth 3

My curly blonde hair that's usually tied back falls loosely over my shoulders. Thankfully they have lemon-scented soap on the train, so I can keep a little bit of myself.

I sit on one of the sofas in the TV room, hugging my knees to my chest. The Mortal commentators are babbling about how great these games will be, especially with the tributes that were reaped this year. I roll my eyes with disgust. Do they realize what they're even doing?

Ever since the reaping my mind has been going at full speed. I already know what weapon I'll choose. Hopefully, they stock the Cornucopia with knives. Someone once told me that knives are only for the bravest and quickest fights. They don't have the reach or power of a sword, but they're easy to conceal and they can find weak spots in your enemy's armor, and that it takes a clever warrior to use a knife. I hope that he was right.

The reapings recap start with district one. I try to only remember the one who'll be a threat to my survival. From District One, two younger Demigods are reaped. I press my lips together knowing they have a slim chance of survival. The video cuts to District Two, which provides a fifteen-year-old Daughter of Aphrodite. District Three has a curly haired Son of Hephaestus. He looks mischievous, but I shouldn't be fooled. He has the mind of a mechanic.

The footage cuts to District Four. I can tell because I can see the ocean in the background. A very perky woman bounces across the stage and draws the girl name. It's a small, seventeen year old Daughter of Nike. I have to watch her. She would do anything to win. The perky woman claps and draws the boy's name. The cameras zoom in on his face and my eyes widen. His eyes are sea green and his black hair is carelessly messy. His fists are clenched and his face is set. He looks determined, but in his eyes, fear is detectable. He slowly walks to the stage.

I rub my temples and cover my eyes. Was this really happening?

"What? Scarred you'll have to kill him?" someone asks. I look up to see Will Solace, the male tribute from my district.

I shake my head. Will shrugs and sits on the other end of the couch.

"Could you do it Will?" I ask quietly.

"Do what?"

"Kill another Demigod," I say, lowering my voice.

Will studies me for a second, then turns to look out the small window on the train. This is what I fear most. I know my smarts could help with tricking other tributes, or get me out of tough situations. But when it comes to killing another innocent demigod, could I do it?

I refocus my attention on the reapings. From District Six a tall, blonde Son of Jupiter is chosen. A Son of Jupiter and Poseidon? Just my luck. District Seven, a big Son of Mars. District Nine, a Son of Hades. I look over at Will and I can tell he's thinking exactly what I'm thinking. Something's up. A child from each of The Big Three gods? Will raises his eyebrows as if asking me if I know what's going on. I close my eyes and shake my head.

I open my eyes to continue to scan for potential enemies. A Daughter of Pluto is called up to the stage in District Ten. This could not be good. I loose myself in thought until the District Twelve reapings. I see myself walking up to the stage, my blonde hair whipping in the wind. My hands are pressed to my sides and my gray eyes are a stormy as ever. Will gets called up and a moment of sadness crosses my face. We shake hands and are led into the Justice Building.

Will shuts the television off. Without speaking he stands and leaves the room. Maybe I should be thinking about how I should survive, but all I can see are the green eyes of Percy Jackson from District Four.

* * *

In my dream I was sitting on the beach. At first I didn't think it was a dream, because I could feel the sun warming my skin and I could feel the wind pushing my hair back. I could feel each grain of sand in-between my toes.

I gazed out at horizon, focusing on the ripples of water that seemed to touch the sun. The sky was amazing, it was different shades of orange and pink. I wondered if I could design a building with walls that reflected the sky during that time of day. Blue in the afternoon, orange and pink at sunset, and black, with shinning stars at midnight.

A hand on my lower back made me jump. I pulled away from the hand and look to see who it is. A boy with black hair and sea-green eyes is smiling at me. Something about him makes me smile. I lean into his arms, which he wraps around me. We sat there for a few minutes when the earth started shaking beneath us. We stood and he still had his arms wrapped around me.

A wave rose out of the water and I tried to scream except I was mute in my dream. I shut my eyes and pressed my face into my boy's chest. I could only hear the roar or the water and the sound of the wind blowing hard. I felt the boy's arms slip from around me and I opened my eyes.

The boy ran into the wave, which subdued as soon as he touched the water. When the water receded he was gone. I stared out onto the water waiting for him.

* * *

I had that dream the morning of the reaping. And as a demigod, I know dreams are never just dreams.

I wake up the next morning, relieved that I didn't dream. I push my bed covers off and step into the shower. I run the water, letting it wash my weariness away. I pat my self down and dry my hair. It's still a bit damp when I walk into the dining car.

Apparently, I slept in, everyone's eating lunch. I sit down next to Will, who only offers the silent greeting of a nod. I nod back and start eating. I focus on my food and on nothing else. If I let my mind wander, who knows where it'll end up.

Will gasps and suddenly rushes to the compartment window. I follow him and catch my breath when I look outside. The Capitol's colors are pretty dull, and it's barely pleasing to the eye, but you hear so many stories growing up, it's like seeing the world's largest rubber band ball. It's huge and obnoxious, and you thought you'd never go to see it.

I push my hair back and look at Will. I can see it in his blue eyes. He's scarred. And I'm pretty sure he sees the same thing in mine.

* * *

**AN: HIIIII **

**I know, I know I don't update any of my stories often. But I'm like suuuper busy with swim, and orchestra, academic league, AND academics itself **

**you know I'm the Mythology expert on the JV team? yeah, that's right pjo knowlegde. **

**welp, please review so I can know how I'm doing AND PLEASE, if you have any complaints, say them. I need to hear what I'm doing wrong. **


	4. Annabeth 4

**Cindy does not own THG of PJO. I'm not _that _brilliant. **

* * *

My stylist says my curls are amazingly beautiful for being natural. So as I wait for the tribute parade to start, I stand next to my chariot making small talk with Will. My hair falls over my bare shoulders. Our outfits represent our godly parentage. I wear a silvery dress that has a slit near the leg. When I stand the hem of my dress falls to the floor. When I walk, the wind catches my dress and sends the fabric flying. It's a strapless dress that zips up the back. But my arms are not bare. Leather straps are bound to my arm, all the way to my wrist. It reminds me of Daedalus and Icarus. If I raise my hand above my head, a silver owl wings follows. It may sound stupid, and ridiculous, it it's actually beautiful. The feathers of the wing look like they have actual silver in them, but they are as light as, well, a feather.

Will is a Son of Apollo, so he wears a golden cloth tied around his waist, like a bath towel. The only other thing he wears is a halo of gold around his head of blonde hair. We will ride in the chariot together, since we're both from District Twelve.

"Look over there," Will motions to the District Three chariot. I recognize the Son of Hephaestus. He's wearing a skin-tight black leotard. The Capitol anthem blares and to my surprise, they light him on fire. Will lets out a long whistle. I catch sight of the other Tributes. That beautiful girl from District Two looks stunning as her chariot rolls out to the Pavilion in a pink dress the compliments her dark skin. But I can tell she doesn't like it by her clenched fists and her set jaw. As the boy from District Three appears to the crowd, the roars of the spectators increase.

I catch my breath at the sight of the boy from District Four. He wears nothing special, just shorts I assume people wear when they go to the beach. His skin is tan from years of fishing. His black hair is a bit tamer than what I had seen in my dream and during the reapings. The only other thing he wears is a leather cord necklace strung with clay beads. I can see it all on the big monitors displayed around the Pavilion. I gasp and put my hand to my neck, where my own necklace should be. I blink as his chariot pulls away.

Again I only focus on those who I deemed were threats. The Son of Jupiter from District Six wears a white toga, and wields a lighting bolt. The Son of Mars from District Seven looks like he's ready to charge into battle with full battle armor. The Son of Hades from Nine looks intimidating in a flowing black cape, even if he's one of the younger competitors. His half sister from District Ten is dressed in a shimmery metallic dress that has tones of gold, silver, and bronze.

I'm silently hoping I look as impressive as all the other tributes up until my chariot begins to down the Pavilion, down to City Circle, where the President of Panem, Walker Dare will welcome the tributes and thank us for our sacrifice and courage. As if we had a choice.

The crowd goes nuts at the sight of Will and myself. Something I didn't notice about my outfit before is that my wings greatly reflect the light. My dress trails behind me, flowing like water in the wind. I raise my wing and almost topple out of the chariot. The wing catches the wind like a parasail. I clutch the chariot rail and steady myself.

I look out at the crowd, cheering and screaming. Suddenly, all I feel is rage. Why am I doing this? They're parading us around and prepping us for death. I feel like a piece of meat being readied for dinner. Back in ancient times, heroes were honored. Not killed. I wish these owl wings were real, so I could fly away. But… I can't. My dad explained very carefully, that I could change the course of the Games forever.

I set my jaw and stare straight ahead. The Capitol should know better than to hurt the pride of a child of Athena. Next to me, Will is smiling and waving to the crowd. He doesn't perceive their excitement like I do.

Before I know it, the chariots are arranged in the City Circle and Walker Dare stands on a podium above us. I glare up at him, but I know he doesn't see my hate. I decide to not listen to his speech, as it would only enrage me more.

I catch just the last line of his speech.

"Happy Demigod Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor."

* * *

After we settle into the Training Center, I immediately explore the building. I walk down the hallways by myself. My escort said that there is a roof, where Tributes can go. She also said there's a great view of the city. I figured I would go there to look at the Capitol's architecture style.

When I reach the door labeled "roof," I find it slightly ajar. I reach for the handle and hesitate. I don't know who's behind that door. A small part of me is hoping its Percy Jackson. I open the door and shiver as the cold air brushes over me. The first thing I register is the noise. I can hear the city, even from all the way up here. I hear car engines and horns, and I can hear drunken citizens hollering about the games. Besides the city, I can hear wind chimes. For a moment, I remember being at home at night. Sometimes I would sneak out at night and sit next to the fence that encloses our district. It's supposed to be electrified 24/7, but we're lucky enough to get one or two hours of electricity every day.

I liked sitting by the fence. It was peaceful. Sometimes I would lie down and look at the stars. I could name all the constellations. With the crisp, fresh air, the shining stars, and the still, natural quiet of the night, I could almost forget how miserable life was. I could pretend to know how it felt when demigods were free. Sometimes, I wonder if this is my third life.

I walk over to the noise of the wind chimes. The sound is more appealing than listening to men yelling "I got my money on the bird giiiiiiiirrrrl!" I shudder and take a seat on a cushioned bench. I don't even notice the Daughter of Aphrodite sitting on a bench across from me.

* * *

I lay in my bed thinking about what transpired on the roof.

"Do you hate this as much as I do?" she asked, sitting next to me. Her name was Piper. Her dad was a rich merchant in District Two. She told me that he barely had time to pay attention to her.

"I do," I said after a pause. She was concerned that we are being monitored and we would get in trouble. I joked that what could they do worse than force us to kill each other while it's televised nationwide? Plus, I reasoned the noise of the city and the wind chimes would be enough to cover up our voices if we spoke softly.

We stayed up there for a few hours just talking about everything. About home, about family, about how much this entire situation sucked. Finally, I decided to ask Piper a very important question.

"Piper?" I asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have a token from your District?"  
She nodded and pulled a leather cord necklace strung with a single clay bead.

* * *

**AN: ohohohoh :D **

**Again, I'm sorry about not being able to update more often ): **

**and I'd like to address a review. Someone had commented on my first chapter that I had taken the first few pages of THG and copied it. **

**no. I did not. The first few pages of THG is about Katniss hunting. I know there are strong similarities, but that's kinda what I'm going for. I'm trying 60% PJO and 40% THG. Thanks. **

**And I couldn't help it but LET'S MAKE A TOAST TO LEO VALDEZ, THE BOY ON FIIIIIIIIIIRE. **

**I'll try to update asap, thanks for reading, and please review :D **


	5. Percy 5

Our escort insisted on taking Serena and me to training, but we insisted she didn't.

I lean on the wall of the elevator thinking about the Opening Ceremonies. My stylist said I looked good enough naturally so she didn't need to fix me up. I had at least expected some great, dazzling costume. Like a giant fish or something. But she ended up just dressing me in board shorts and the clay-bead necklace that Grover had given me.

The necklace used to just be a token, something I wore because Grover had asked me to. But ever since a woman visited me in my bathroom, my opinion of the necklace changed.

* * *

I stood in my private bathroom, readying myself to take a shower. Late afternoon sunlight streamed in through a small window, illuminating the complex shower. I undressed and wrapped a towel around my waist. I reached into the shower and pushed a button that I had learned made water fall from the ceiling like rain. I hadn't noticed the rainbow I'd created.

The woman would've seen me nude if she hadn't yelled "VICTORY!"

"Gah!" I squeaked and quickly I tightly rewrapped my towel around my waist.

"Perseus Jackson," she said. I stared at her wide-eyed. She had long brown hair, braided over one shoulder. A golden hair band kept her hair from falling into her face. The woman wore a golden jersey, which read "The Olympians." She had tan skin, like as if she spent all her time running and swimming. She looked young, like late high school or early college. Behind her was a soccer field with confetti scattered everywhere. Golden sunlight made the entire mist picture look like it was glowing. She gave a winning smile at my surprise.

"I have come to give you a very important message. Thankfully you made a rainbow otherwise, we wouldn't be talking. You'll be paying for this transaction by the way," she said.

"Uh… okay," I said. "One question."

The woman raised her eyebrows.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled. "I am Nike. Goddess of Victory." She motioned behind her. "I have just granted victory to the Olympians in their championship soccer game."

"The gods have a soccer team?" I asked, imagining Ares cursing out the small black and white ball.

Nike waved her hand dismissively. "Of course not! The Olympians is a high school team. Anyways, that," she pointed at the clay bead necklace that I had left on the marble sink counter, "is of great importance. If you meet someone else who has one, trust them."

I stared at the goddess through what I remember is called an Iris message. They were used a lot back when demigods were free. "So I'm being sent into an arena with twenty three other people, and you expect me to trust anyone with an arts and crafts project around their necks?"

"I understand your concern. My daughter, Serena, wouldn't hesitate to take your life to win a competition. But you must understand. The gods want no more of their children to be slaughtered. A prophecy has been issued. Everything has been planned out. But as you know, the future is never certain. The future of the Games depend on you and several others."

I tried to ask a question but Nike raised her hand, cutting my sentence short. "I need to finish my message before we run out of sunlight." I looked out the small bathroom window and noticed Nike was right. The sun was setting. "There will be others without this necklace but they will be vital to your quest."

My eyes widened. "Quest?" We had learned about quests in school. Of course, I almost always fell asleep during classes, so my memory of quest lessons was vague. One thing I did remember: quests often ended in tragedy or death for heroes.

Nike nodded. "Ask your stylist about this. She is a mortal yes. But she understands. Back when your kind was free, she would be one that would be able to see through the Mist.

"And one last thing. There is Tribute named Jason Grace. He will infuriate you. At first, you both will be natural enemies as you are both natural leaders, plus your godly heritages clash. But do not harm him. He is essential. Farewell, Perseus. Victory is key."

With that, she swiped her arm across the image and Nike disappeared.

* * *

The elevator doors slide open and Serena and I step into the Training Room.

It looks like a warehouse with a high ceiling. Industrial lights give the room a sickly glow. There are stations everywhere, ranging from edible and poisonous plants, spear throwing, and knot tying. I see metal rungs for climbing. I see a fake forest where tributes can practice camouflaging themselves. And I see all the other tributes. Apparently, they were waiting on us, because as soon as we take our places on the small circles marked 4, the head trainer Chiron begins explaining the rules.

"No fighting with other tributes. If you want to practice combat, there are trainers on hand at all times. Fighting with another tribute will lead to suspension of training and further preparation for the Games," Chiron warns. Chiron is a centaur, which leads my ADHD brain to wonder about whether he sleeps in a stable, or in a bed, or in a bed in a stable.

The shuffling of feet and the clopping of hooves snap me back into reality. Chiron stands before me, his hands on his hips. He reminds me of my Latin teacher back in District Four.

"Hello Percy," he gives me a warm smile. I realize he is the first person from the Capitol to not call me by my actual first name. "I just wanted to wish you luck," he says, clasping a hand onto my shoulder.

As he takes his hand away, I catch a glimpse of a leather cord with clay beads strung on it, tied around his wrist.

* * *

I sit at the fire lighting station, working hard at trying to make a fire with a nature made string and bow contraption. I've actually worked up a small sweat when a spark catches. I drop the bow to my side and kneel next to the small flame. I blow, enlarging the orange glow. I smile at my small success. Just then, a boot smashes out my fire. I look up to find a girl with stringy brown hair tied back in a red bandana smiling cruelly down at me. She's with a few other girls and boys that I don't remember from the reapings. They all laugh as they walk away.

"Did you see his face?" one of them asks.

I clench my jaw and go back to working on another fire. I see someone crouch next to me in my peripheral vision.

"I could help you with that," says the curly haired boy from District Three.

I raise an eyebrow. "You could?"

"Yeah, check this out," he says. He looks over his shoulder as if he's checking for someone, then he lights his finger on fire.

"Whoa!" I exclaim scrambling backwards.

The boy chuckles then holds his finger to my pile of tinder. The dry grasses catch and he extinguishes his flame. He holds his hand up to his mouth then blows on it like an imaginary gun.

He offers his hand up for a shake. "Leo Valdez," he says as I shake his extended hand. "Or as my mentors and prep team call me, The Boy on Fire." He smiles.

He reminds me of a Santa Elf, except he has a Latino look to him. (Hey I used something I learned in geography!)

"Percy Jackson," I say. Nike's words come back to me. "Hey, Leo, do you have a token from your district?"

"Oh, sure," he answers. He pulls a leather cords from around his neck, strung with a single clay bead.

* * *

**I was** **going ****update yesterday but I couldn't. ah! **

**I hope to update ****soon, and please leave me a review to tell me how I'm doing. **

**Thanks for reading! (: **


	6. Percy 6

Training passed by fairly quickly. I spent most of my time going from station to station with Leo. Admittedly we spent at lot of time at the climbing wall. It was huge, and it even had lava pouring from it. The wall also dropped boulders. Fun right? I noticed that Leo couldn't sit still. Like as if he injected caffeine into his bloodstream every morning. His hands were always doing something like building a small catapult or running through his curly black hair.

Leo's hands weren't the only things I noticed. On the last day of training, Leo and I were trying archery. Soon we figured neither of us was good because we kept missing the humanoid target boards completely. But we stayed there anyways. I was watching Leo shoot but my eyes focused on something father in the distance. The girl from District Twelve was watching me. She was at the edible plant station with the boy from her district. As soon as I made contact with those intense gray eyes, she raised her eyebrows, as if challenging me. I realized we were locked in a starting contest that she wouldn't lose.

"Heeellllo? Earth to Jackson?" Leo waved his hand in front of my face.

I blinked a few times and looked at him. "What?"

He narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to read my mind. He put his bow on the rack and stood uncomfortably close to me.

"Dude, what are you doing?" I asked.

"Trying to see what you were staring at, because you weren't zoned out. Your eyes weren't glazed. You were focused," he said. The girl from District Twelve looked up at us. I quickly looked at Leo to see if he had noticed. And judging by the way he was smirking, he did.

I jokingly pushed him. "No," I said.

"Bro," he clasped a hand onto my shoulder. "She's scary."

I raised my eyebrows. "Scary?" I imagined Leo shaking with fright as the girl stared him down.

"I mean intimidating. Have you seen those eyes?"

_I definitely have_, I thought. "Whatever," I sighed.

* * *

That was yesterday. Today is the day of the individual sessions. They go by district, first the boy, then the girl. Leo goes out before me and I wish him good luck. Soon enough I hear them calling my name.

I take a deep breath and step into the training room. The first thing I register is the faint scent of smoke. Leo must've set something on fire. It's creepy how quiet it is. Usually you can hear swords clashing, people talking, or arrows finding their targets. But now I can only hear my footsteps echoing and the drunken laughter of the Mortal Gamemakers.

I walk over to the sword station. I had been there once during regular training, but I quickly defeated the person they provided me to fight. The teacher at the station said that at individual sessions, they would get me a top-notch fighter to clash with.

"Hey there," I say to the guy at the station. He is considerably taller than me and he obviously outweighs me. It isn't because he is fat. It's because he's built and muscular.

"Hey," he says in a voice deeper than Tartarus. "At anytime if you want you call it quits, just say so. Because I won't stop until you do."  
I nod and grab a sword, a celestial bronze one, so even if I did slash through his body, it would go right through him. Celestial bronze can't harm mortals because they aren't important enough. Demigods, however, can be harmed by steel and celestial bronze.

I lock eyes with my opponent. He takes the first strike and slashes at me. I sidestep and bring the unbalanced sword in my hand down in an arc. He blocks my attack and pushes me back. I stumble, but don't fall.

He presses me hard, and I subconsciously notice I'm inching back toward the climbing wall.

I lunge, but he parries the attack. I can now feel the heat from the lava wall, any closer and I'll end up fried. I look for a way out. I notice piping along the walls and pray that the one I want is there.

He takes the opportunity of me looking away and disarms me by twisting his blade around mine, forcing me to drop my sword.

I keep my eyes on my opponent, but I grit my truth concentrating hard. My mind is back in District Four, thinking of the crystal blue water.

I feel a tug in my gut. I smile triumphantly, confusing the guy. He thought I was done when he disarmed me.

I learned at a young age that I had power over water.

Water washes over us, dousing the lava near me. The water was only a few feet deep, but it was strong enough to knock the guy over. I pick up my sword and hold it at his throat. The water had washed his weapon about 8 feet away. I motion my hand upwards lifting the water. I squeeze my hand into a fist, and the water follows my movement. I dropp it on him.

When the water recedes, he coughs and sputters. He smiles up at me. "Not bad." He extends his hand and I shake it.

I look up at the game makers. They are all jaw dropped and gaping. Some are whispering intensely to each other. One stands.

"You are dismissed, Mr. Jackson."

* * *

I lay down, taking up an entire couch. We are waiting for the training scores. Now that I look back on it, I really hope the Gamemakers aren't mad about me damaging the water pipe system.

Slowly, one by one scores are announced. I pay no attention to anyone else's scores. Finally, they show my picture... With a 10 flashing under it!

I smile and sigh with relief. Someone must be trying to sponsor me. Serena pulls an 8.

She should be happy. Eight is still a high number. But she's staring at me with her lips pressed into a thin line.

"What'd you do to get a ten Jackson?"

I quickly debated whether I should tell her about my waterpower but quickly decided to keep it a secret.

"Sword fighting," I say.

"So did I," Serena says. "I also threw a spear, shot an arrow, and threw some knives."

"I uh," I stutter.

"I'm watching you Jackson," she hisses leaving the room.

* * *

**AN: uh oh we have any enemy! **

**So the next two chapters are Annabeth's and they include the interviews and the beginning of the games. ohohohohoh I can't wait to write! **

**Please review and tell me how I'm doing. It really helps. **

**And thank you so so much for reading! Until next chapter**

**-_Cindy_**


	7. Annabeth 7

Intimidating. Smart. Dangerous. This is the angle my mentor and stylist agreed on.

I'm nervous, as I will be the last girl to be interviewed, so I will have to do amazingly to impress the audience. _Impress the audience._ Thoughts from the tribute parade flood my mind and I feel my cheeks flush with anger. I hate this.

But I must admit. I look beautiful. My dress is dark green and sleeveless. When I turn, the dress shimmers. The hem stops just above my knees and the back is completely open. A sweetheart neckline displays my collarbone. I feel exposed, vulnerable. But I understand the message of the angle and the dress put together. _"Attack me! I'll bite right back."_

I sit in a chair, just off the stage in between the boy from eleven and Will. He wears a completely golden tux.

"I can see your stylist likes the whole gold thing," I say motioning to his suit.

"Ha, ha, ha. Funny," He says. "At least you look pretty. I feel like a golden sponge cake."

"You look fine," I say putting my hand on his arm. I look at him and the sudden reality hits me. Will could be dead within 24 hours. I could be dead. My eyes start to burn, and I blink rapidly.

"You ok?" Will asks.

I nod and lean back in my seat. _This is no way to mentally prepare yourself, Annabeth. Suck it up!_

I should be paying attention to the interviews. But my mind is racing through scenarios that could possibly happen during the games. I see myself trekking though mountains, a forest, a barren landscape. I see myself lying under brush, dying of dehydration. I see myself running, running, running from something I will not escape. I see my knife clashing against Percy Jackson's sword.

Nervously, I finger the beads on the necklace the rests against my throat. I'm not sure how long I'm sitting there when my name is called, snapping back into the present world. My flats touch the ground and I walk hastily to the stage. The light are incredibly hot, and I take a moment to pray to my mom that I don't sweat much.

I sit in the plush chair across from the interviewer. I've decided to only answer with a simple yes, no, or one or two sentences. I don't want to be here. I hate the crowd staring at me. I hate the interviewer, smiling and laughing at his own jokes. I grit my teeth and sit through my three minutes.

I return to my seat and look down at my lap. Will is doing amazing, I can tell by the cheering of the audience. The buzzer goes off, signaling his three minutes. The tributes are required to stand for the national anthem. The music blares loudly. We shuffle back to the training center.

I push my way into an elevator, finding other tributes in there. I see Piper, the energetic boy from Three, the blonde guy from Six, and Percy Jackson. Piper Has a short elevator ride up, coming from District Two. The doors open and she steps out. The boy from three punches the button labeled three.

It's an awkward ride. We all just stand there, silently. The only sound is the constant whirring of the elevator and district Three's tapping foot. I stare straight ahead. The elevator stops at Three, and the boy walks out. Before the door closes, he sticks his head in and says, "Peace out yo. See y'all soon."

Percy and the blonde boy chuckle. I suppress a small smile. The elevator dings, and Percy steps out as soon as the doors open. Now it's only me and the blonde boy. He looks at me, catching me studying him.

"Jason Grace, District 6," He says extending his hand.

I take his hand and shake it. "Annabeth Chase, District 12."

We reach his floor and he steps out. "Good luck," he says just as the doors close.

I sigh and slide my back against the elevator wall until I'm sitting on the ground. I place my head in between my knees. I'm under so much stress I might break as easily as ice.

* * *

**Wow I haven't updated in months... **

**but hey I'm on summer break so the story will probably be finished before July 22(the day my school starts again) **

**I know this is a short chapter, but hey, I'm too excited to write... the beginning of the games! **

**So stay tuned, as I will update soon, I promise! **

**Yours in demigodishness and all that, peace out -Cindy**


	8. Annabeth 8

I take a deep breath and step onto the small metal plate that will push me out into the arena. I'm shaking uncontrollably. The glass tube seals around me and all I can hear is my rapid breathing and the movement of the clothes I'm wearing. The brown jacket reflects heat, and the cargo pants have plenty of pockets to hold who knows what. I grab the necklace around my neck, feeling like it is the only connect I have outside of this tube.

I feel the plate pushing me up. A tear escapes and I quickly brush it away. I should be strong right now. Even as I little girl I had always pictured these moments. What it would be like to be in the games, and how completely horrified I would be. My imagination would have never been able to capture my emotions right now. It feels as if there is a hundred pound weight on my chest, depriving me of air.

The light from outside is blinding. I can feel the arena's air filling my glass tube. I catch the scent of pines and a small wave of relief washes over me. Trees are good. I close my eyes as the plate stops and I'm fully outside. The wind is stronger now, my blonde bangs are blown to the side. I open my eyes and gasp.

It's beautiful. We are on an open meadow, surrounded by lush forest. Just over the tree tops, in the distance, mountain peaks are visible. The sky is a vibrant blue that I've only seen in my dreams. It takes me a moment to register that every little detail I notice about this place is fake. This is a product of the Capitol. I feel the weight in my chest again.

I look around at the faces of the other tributes. Some, like Serena from Four, look confident and are eyeing the bountiful weapons spilling over in the cornucopia. Some are staring at the endless sky. Directly to my left, Piper stands stiffly on he plate. On my right, a small twelve year old is shaking like a leaf.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the 74th annual Demigod Games begin!" The announcer's voice echoes through the arena.

Sixty seconds. You must stand in your plate for sixty seconds. Step off a moment too early and you're dead. The game makers have placed bombs around each plate that can be set off by the slightest change in pressure. When the times up a gong sounds and all the tributes will run to their deaths.

The countdown starts and I start putting a plan together quickly. I will need supplies, but do I want to risk going into the bloodbath? I know from previous games that the closer the supply is to the cornucopia, the more helpful it is. Right in front of me, about ten feet away, I can see a water canteen, probably empty. But there, just at the mouth, I can see a dozen gallons of full, purified water.

I decide to go in for what I can get, but as soon as I am pursued, I would run, run as hard and as fast as I possibly could. I will stare at the clock instead of listening for the gong because light is faster than sound. I scan the faces of my fellow tributes again. Most of them are now focused on the digital clock above the cornucopia. Except for one. Percy Jackson stares at me and I stare right back.

I narrow my eyes and break the stare. I look back at the clock. Twenty seconds. I could be dead within the next few minutes. Ten seconds. I hope my dad knows I love him. Five seconds. Maybe this is my third life after all, and I'll go to the Isles of Blest.

My legs take off before my brain does. I grab the empty water canteen, and continue running towards the cornucopia. I grab a small bedroll attached to a backpack that I sling over my shoulders. The ground disappears and suddenly I'm flat on my back. Someone kicks my arm hard, and I yelp in pain. They bring a knife down that would've punctured my heart had I not rolled to my left.

Serena's teeth are bared. I lean back on my elbows and kick her square in the chest. She didn't expect my attack so she is taken by surprise. She falls backwards. I grab the knife she dropped and run towards the woods.

I scream as an arrow finds its target in my calf. I skid to a halt and look at my leg. I grit my teeth and pull the arrow out. I wince in pain. It burns like crazy, but people can still see me. I have to get out of here. I need to keep running.

So I do. I run hard for ten minutes till I find a fallen tree. I limp over to it slowly and sit. The leg of my pant is soaked in blood. I need to treat the puncture, but I'm out of breath from running so hard. I pull my jacket off and use it to wipe some sweat from my forehead. I open the backpack hoping to find some rope, cloth, or anything to cut the blood flow. I find a ball of twine in my backpack and thank the gods. I measure out a good length and cut it with the knife I took from Serena. I tightly tie the twine around my calf, just above the puncture.

I search through the bag for ambrosia or nectar, but I don't find any. I curse softly. I stand and walk with no direction. I hear screams from the blood bath still. I decide that my best bet of survival is to follow the small stream up to the mountains. I slowly walk back to the fallen tree to where I first sat down. I sit once again, resting before I make my journey to the mountains.

The first boom of the cannon jolts through me. I stop dead in my tracks and count. Ten. Ten dead and it's only been an hour. I cover my face. Will could be dead. Piper could be dead. Percy could be dead. But I know he isn't.

Because a few feet up the stream with his bare feet in the water, sit Perseus Jackson himself.

* * *

**I wrote this one pretty quickly.**

**I'll update asap! :D **

**-Cindy **

**ps I don't own any PJO characters and all concepts are that of The Hunger Games and Suzanne Collins **


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